Evolution Revisited: Death of a Legacy
by Shadow Wolf22
Summary: What is happening? That is the common question that's upon lips these days. Selene and Michael killed William and Marcus, but could he have been telling Victor the truth about his line and legacy?
1. Chapter 1

Alright ladies and gentlemen, if you're reading this I'd like to thank you very much for the attention. And I'd also like to say that this is a quasi sequel to my previous underworld fic. Underworld Revisited. I say quasi, because as the last fic was based on Underworld, this one is based on Underworld: Evolution. Also a few characters from my other fic will appear. You don't however have to read my other fic to understand this one. It simply begins after the Deaths of Marcus and William in Evolution, and a few characters will be returning from my old fic. Alright, please enjoy and review if you like it, don't like it, have ideas. I love reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own Underworld or its characters. All I own is my own motley crew and they don't matter, so yeah…

Chapter 1

The skies glowed a soft red, and then orange as the long night finally came to an end. It had been hard on Michael and Selene, heck the entire week end had been hell. It was hard to believe that all of this had happened in a mere two days, yet there it was staring them in the face. The sun had risen twice during the course of their journey, but finally it rose on its end. It was over. The nightmarish struggle, the war, all of it was over and done. Now the only thing left ahead was the future.

Michael was all for the future as he looked deep into Selene's newly changed eyes, holding her hand for the first time in the light of day. In fact the Vampire-Lycan Hybrid was thinking of a hundred different futures as he held his love's hand, now that Marcus and William were dead.

"Let's get outta here." He said, freshly back in his human form.

Selene smiled at him.

"Sure. Let's go…"

Pain. It was so sharp and sudden. It arched its way through Michael's skull like a spark kindling into a flame. The hybrid tried to scream, hands clutching instantly at his skull, yet his lips wouldn't move. Paralyzed. Not just his lips, but his whole being. Michael suddenly couldn't move. He would have been terrified of this, but he couldn't be. God the pain was too awful, it was too awful for thought, for existence.

Suddenly Michael wanted to die. He would have given anything for death. Death was better than this pain.

Selene didn't know what to do. One moment Michael had been fine and the next…the next he was on the ground screaming. What on earth was happening? And how could she help him? It was obvious that he was in pain. Selene watched his handsome features contort in pain, no, agony. The look on his face told her of a pain that she couldn't comprehend. That only made things more horrid. She was powerless. She didn't even know what was happening to him.

Michael screamed again. He screamed and screamed, clutching at his head, eyes clamped tight against the torment. Then he began shuddering. His entire body shook, he seized. Selene watched on, powerless. She dropped to her knees and held him. Her arms wrapped about his shoulders, supporting him in a sitting position, but still he shook. He shook so violently that he shook her with him. It was like a death spasm. As if he had been stuck a mortal blow, yet looking down she could see no blow. His head was between his hands, whole and unharmed. His body was as always. Nothing marred his muscular upper body, save for a few scratches that were already healing, and the rest of him was fine.

Selene didn't know what to do, but she knew if she didn't do something, Michael would die. How she knew, she couldn't say, but something told her she was right. And Selene wasn't one to snub her instincts. So it was that she lifted him effortlessly into her arms. His eyes snapped open then, and Selene was farther confused as she looked into them. His eyes, they were shifting. They were jumping shades; Lycan rage azure, the deeper blue of vampiric fury, then the unyielding hybrid onyx. What was happening to Michael? Selene didn't know, but she was damn well going to find out.

- - - - - -

Jonathan Moray was in trouble. Yeah, yeah, it was his own fault. He understood that. After all he had embarrassed Avoal as much as he could, what's more was the fact that he had defeated three death dealers single handedly. Well, sort of.

And if that wasn't enough to make him a very large target, he knew Maria was missing from their ranks. No, that tended to make them jumpy, Lycans making Death Dealers disappear. But then what could he say, his issues tended to go deep and he wasn't about to just sit back and die at any rate. Death dealers or no, he would survive, and he'd do it without killing them. He had promised Eliza.

Jon froze as he heard booted feet. It seemed that his friends had found him. Death dealer, gotta love 'em.

Chestnut eyes cut through the darkness to the figures below as if they were basking in noonday sun. Jonathan's night vision was excellent and he saw every detail of the landscape below from his perch upon a building's ledge. In the shadow of a gargoyle, Jon himself was a bit more difficult to spot than his targets. That was all Jon currently had going for himself. Down below, there were the two Death Dealers he had faced once before, Avoal and Sonya, but also two others.

One was a nimble red head. Jon had been enjoying a steak. The first that he had in quite a while. He had had money, gone to a restaurant, been a normal patron. Such a thing had been rare, especially considering that he was always about trying not to attract attention. But still he liked a steak. He liked to work at a job, use his hands. Blast it, a normal life was nice sometime. But it was also reckless and stupid. Reckless and stupid had caught up with him tonight too. As the red head had come in, sat down at his table dressed to kill, literally and flashed a dangerous fanged smile.

Saying she was dressed to kill was miles from euphemism. The woman was dressed in leather. Leather everything. She was wearing a body suit like most dealers, but also wore a lacy edged corset over it. It made her curvaceous body more so, but it wasn't some gothic sheik accessory or a fashion statement. Nope. The thing was a bullet proof vest. How did he know? Ah, well that was easy, considering she told him so. It was so that her partners outside could snipe him and not worry about the bullet going through and hitting her. All of that was a fancy way of saying that he could step outside or they'd kill him where he sat. They didn't want to attract attention to their existence, but a murder in a restaurant, well human mad men always could be blamed.

Jon, dressed in a simple though surprisingly clean T-shirt and pair of jeans had felt underdressed beside the woman. A curious thought considering that he knew exactly what she was, but then when in danger it was always best not to focus on the danger. Panicking would only make things worst. He had to be clear and focused to survive.

Every man in the restaurant turned to look at the leather clad sex kitten-esque dealer, and a few women spared Jon himself a glance. The African-American man after all wasn't a slouch in the handsome department. But Jon didn't notice any of this. Nope, just the man, dressed as the woman was that stood at the front door, with a trench coat thrown over his ensemble. Jon had never seen anything like this second dealer.

The man was white. No, not a comment on his race, but rather his pallor. The man wasn't pale, but albino. That was it. The man was albino. He wore shades, but Jon bet that the eyes behind them were pink. The man's hair was without pigment either. It was suddenly obvious that the man was well and truly an albino. Then as if he could read the Lycan's consideration, the man slid the glasses down a nose that brought about words like hawk and beak. Eyes that were the color of blood vessels glared at him.

"What are you looking at, mongrel?" A voice like gravel asked.

Jon smiled.

"Nothing."

The man hrmphed, then slid out the door, his right hand sliding inconspicuously into his jacket. Jon knew he wouldn't get another chance.

He rushed forward, slamming his palm into the man's lower back, and gripping his waist as he turned him, using him as a human shield against the red head This worked for about a nanosecond, but Jon knew he was probably in cross hairs. He pushed the man back into the restaurant and the woman, then he took off in a blur, even as he heard the first rifle shot.

Jon had been on the run since then. And so far he was getting away. But only God knew how long he could keep it up. After all he had almost been caught several times already. When he had first taken to the roof tops. He had almost run "dead" into the blond Sonya. The dealers had set up a cross fire position. They should have had him, and would have if he had been fighting like the average Lycan. If he had charged out like a raving beast, depending on his strength alone to overcome his enemies, but Jon was many things, but raving beast was not one of them.

Lucian had taught him too well for such things. And his promise to departed Eliza also held him strong. He wouldn't kill them. No, he was better. He could hunt without dealing death. Jon repeated these things to himself as he hid. He believed them, he did and he would survive.

It was then that he felt the pain, and watched as all the Death Dealers collapsed, hands gripping their heads. They screamed. He screamed. Oh, God the pain was too much. Jon felt himself being consumed by the pain and suddenly he didn't want to live. No, he just wanted the agony to end. It was then that he fell. Was it really a jump? Had he chosen to die rather than handle the pain. No one could be sure. Jon himself wasn't sure, he couldn't think, reason. But as he fell over the ledge's edge, he suddenly felt himself fly.

He flew backward. Up, past the ledge, and finally up to the roof top that he had dropped from earlier to hide among the statues. The pain was blinding, his eyes were clenched against it. But suddenly he felt them snap open, against his will, and though the pain was too much, though it was maddening, Jon instantly recognized the face looking down at him.

Looking down? He was on the ground. It was a realization. But the greatest realization was the man looking down at him. Jon knew he couldn't be seeing who he was. The bastard was asleep, he had to be. And besides, he wouldn't come looking for him. Would he?

"Marcus!"

The man's luminous blue eyes took in the Lycan before him, and his regal features scrunched up at the name given him. Slowly the man shook his head.

"No, my friend. Marcus is dead, and William along with him."

The man however said no more. Instead of words he reached for the bandage wrapping his wrist and squeezed the wound he found under it over the Lycan's lips. Jon's lips parted without thought, on instinct? Maybe. But whatever the reason, he swallowed, and the pain began ebbing away.

As the pain left, Jon looked at the man wide eyed. Reluctantly he admitted to himself that though the man could be Marcus's twin, he wasn't the vampire. The scent was different. And he sure as hell couldn't be William.

"My name is Lucas," The man said, interrupting Jon's thoughts. "I need you to help me."

Jon growled.

"Please. My brothers' legacies are on the line…"

"Legacies?"

Lucas nodded.

"Yes, all of you. Your lives are in danger, every immortal of the Vampire and Lycan bloodlines."

Jon just stared. What could he say to that, to a man that looked like the man whom he hated most in the entire world. No, his silence spoke for him, and his disbelief.


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan Moray scowled from his place upon an upturned garbage can as he sat watching Marcus, damn it, Lucas open a vein for each of the downed Death Dealers. As far as Jon was concerned they could go to hell, but then that was him talking now. A few moments ago, when he had watched the suffering on their faces, well he hadn't been saying that.

Damn it all he'd felt their pain first hand or at least he'd felt his, and if theirs was anywhere close, well that was hell. Jon wouldn't wish that on his worst enemies, hell his blood enemies.

"Alright," He said, catching Lucas's attention as he fed the red head from his wrist. Both of them looked at him, and he couldn't help but smirk at the red head as he gave her a wink.

She rolled her eyes, and that was enough for him. She was the last one, Lucas had fed all the other blood hounds first and some of them were looking a lot like red, less benumbed and more focused. Jon wasn't sure what he though about that, but they hadn't jumped him yet so he was good. For now that is.

"Yes, Jonathan?"

That brought Jon back to his previous focus.

"Yeah, Lucas. Now again, can you explain all of that crap to me again? It just doesn't stick…"

A touch of laugher flashed in Lucas's eyes with that, and Jon suddenly felt like he was being evaluated. He didn't like it. Still as his scowl deepened the amusement was gone and Jon was left to wonder if he had just imagined it. That he really didn't like, but it wasn't just evaluation, but that he couldn't read Lucas.

Jonathan Moray had lived for centuries and as a Lycan his senses made people pretty translucent. He could hear or smell a lie, even smell the difference in emotions, but he got exactly jack from Lucas. He was a mystery and Jon wasn't a fan of mystery, especially when it could get him real dead real fast.

Avoal and Sonya glared at him, and Jon made a special effort not to notice. That would hurt the bastards' pride and that got to dealers more than anything else. It proved true when Avoal spoke up.

"What he should be explaining mongrel is why exactly it is that he hasn't ordered us to put a silver slug in your head."

Jon sneered.

"Go bite the sun you fanggy bastard."

This drew a slight chuckle from Lucas and when Jon looked from Avoal who looked all better, lucky baby, he had a slight smile on his full lips and once again amusement shone out of those damned eyes that were still the perfect picture of Marcus's.

"Can't you all go without arguing?" He asked.

Jon laughed, he laughed for real and he suddenly felt better for the laugh.

"What rock have you been under? Blood feud remember…"

Avoal interrupted.

"Marcus, why the hell is he calling you Lucas and why aren't we ending his life?"

"I am not Mar-"

"He isn't Marcus." Jon cut him off. "Are you sense dead? I know you're brain dead, but doesn't your nose tell you any damn thing?"

Avoal looked furious.

Jon smiled.

Violence was on the air, and all the other dealers tensed, prepared to see what would happen. That is all but for the albino.

"The wolf's right Avoal, his blood smells similar, but he isn't Marcus. He isn't even …"

"He isn't even what?" Jon asked before he stopped himself. The pale bastard had stopped in the middle of his sentence and Jon wasn't smelling anything so different about Lucas. In fact he smelt…

Jonathan got it suddenly.

"You mean he doesn't smell like a leech."

The albino bared fangs at him, but he didn't seem as in good a shape as the red head or Avoal and Sonya. Perhaps the blood still needed time to take affect for him. It had taken longer for all the vampires, Jon suddenly wondered about that, but he'd ask later. Not that he trusted Lucas. Hell he should have probably left the minute he was able to walk, but what could he say, the man scared the hell out of him with all of that death of bloodlines crap and Jon had too many friends that might be suffering even as they sat around.

Sonya finally spoke up.

"No, mongrel, he smells like a human."

Lucas chuckled.

"That's because I am. I am a human immortal, like my father before me."

Lycan and Vampires were both silent.

Lucas smiled.

"Ah, now I've got your attention."

"Yes, you've got our attention." Avoal and Jon agreed.

They looked at each other then and both sneered.

Lucas laughed at them again, and he said rather easily.

"Come now children…let me tell you a story."

All eyes fell on Lucas.

"You see what you have been told is a lie…"

Selene let out a hiss of frustration as the tried yet another of the catacomb of caves. The last had been a dead end and she was in a right fury. Not over the dead ends, but because Michael…Michael had fallen silent. He had been in agony, righteous agony, and while she couldn't bear for him to be in pain. Instinct told her that pain was better than what was happening now.

Michael was a dead weight on her back. And the thinking the word dead, made her flinch. What would she do if Michael died? Could she go on? She'd lost him once, he'd been dead after Marcus's attack and…well she'd wanted to kill Marcus, die trying, whatever it took, but what could she do if Michael died for no reason. Who would she fight? Some strange disease? No, Michael couldn't die. She wouldn't let him.

"Please be alright!" She whispered to the hybrid draped across her back, that was until she felt him being pulled from her.

Like a panther in the woods, Selene turned, her eyes glowing a deep feral blue that swirled with a brighter azure. She was prepared for anything, that was save for what she found.

A woman.

She was about the same build as Selene herself, she had curves but look more than a little athletic. She was dressed in a backless gown of the purest crimson, and her hair was auburn, a mass of curls that fell down her back making her look smaller despite the fact that Selene guessed the woman was a few inches taller than her.

For a moment Selene was shocked.

Then she was furious again.

She dared this woman attack her, attack Michael when he was down and couldn't defend himself. Selene had been a Death Dealer, but she was also an honorable warrior. A sneak attack rankled of cowardice and she hated cowards.

As she rushed forward, to tear the woman apart however, Selene's thoughts of defending Michael disappeared as she watched the woman. She was straddling Michael's waist, but she wasn't attacking. In fact while she held a knife, it was covered in a fine sheen of her own blood.

Blood that she was feeding Michael.

And he was consuming it now. His eyes were open and they were vampiric blue. He drank though, his throat working as the woman nodded and whispered to him sweetly.

"That's good." She said. "Drink, it will stop the legacy curse."

Curse?

"Who are you?" Selene asked.

The woman looked at her and smiled.

"I am someone who needs your help. We must stop my father, Lucas."


End file.
